When Robert Griffin III's knee finally gave out, he went down and could make no attempt at recovering his fumble. (AP Photo)

Those aren’t the actual words Dr. James Andrews told NFL.com and the NFL Network Friday at the Scouting Combine in Indianapolis. But they’re close.

And realistically, it’s still not clear if the theme of RG3’s new shoe campaign, quoted above, actually refers to the rehab of the right knee on which Andrews operated last month. If that’s what it implies, apparently, so be it.

Also realistically: Griffin figured out quickly what he was saying, and how it really sounded. On Twitter a few days after his ad exploded on the airwaves (pun completely intended), he tweeted this, in part: “Although my goal is to start Week 1, that doesn't mean I will compromise my career to do so ... No rush, just determination."

He’s healthy enough to backpedal. Good sign.

It’s also smart—belated, but smart. Because as sharp as RGIII is, he’s not the doctor. Andrews is. It’s his words that should carry more weight.

Even when smashing together all the conflicting accounts, it seems fairly certain that Andrews didn’t like Griffin playing on that bad knee, and that somebody should have listened to him.

One can only hope that a certain somebody, after his quick reversal, listens to Andrews now, too. Somebody needs to tune out his own competitive drive, his own desire to beat the odds, his own sense of his physical and mental superiority … and listen to the expert.

“We don’t have to do much but try to hold him back, if you want to know the truth. Our whole mode for him, though, is to do what best for his career, not necessarily what’s best for the first game next season. So all of that has to be put on hold and let him get well.”

Furthermore, NFL.com reporter Ian Rapoport added, Andrews wished he could post a sign in his office, for all his young athlete knee patients, to “slow down” and not assume the abnormally fast recovery of Adrian Peterson to be the norm.

The notion of Robert Griffin III slowing down, in any aspect of his football life, seems ludicrous. Except that the whole country saw him slowing down snap-by-snap that day at FedEx Field against Seattle. He can seem superhuman pretty routinely, but when his anterior cruciate and lateral collateral ligaments went, they went just as they do on every human.

When he heals, he’ll be closer to that previous level than mere mortals will. But, Andrews’ words cautioned, he’ll get there only when he’s ready to get there—not necessarily when he wants to get there. That is, on Week 1.

It seems like sound advice. You’d think it would seem sound to somebody whose body is his life, career and fortune. But that’s been contradicted only by the entire history of sports. Including very recent history, since a part of the RG3 drama at the end of last season was RG3 himself telling everybody who mattered—doctor, head coach, teammates, whoever—that he was fine, he wasn’t hurt, he wanted to play, he didn’t want to come out of the game, he wanted to stay in, suck it up, tough it out, win the game, worry about pain and immobility later.

He was wrong. To be fair, though, once more, it never should have been his call to make, specifically for that reason: athletes of his caliber instinctively talk themselves back onto the field no matter what risk they face by doing it. Every talking point about the safety of football from Pop Warner to the NFL comes back to that basic notion: I want to play.

Griffin wants to play Week 1. Of course he does. He changed his tune, but believe it, he’s still aiming for his original goal.

So, just for a change of pace, just to dramatically alter the typical mindset that’s done more harm than good over the decades, how about if Griffin heeds not only his own words (from his rapidly-altered script), but his doctor’s too? How about if he truly listens to his surgeon, the guy who understands the structure of the human knee joint the way the quarterback knows a cover 2?

Putting on a brave public face isn’t terrible, mind you. It sends a good message and sets a positive tone that people might need to hear. Another electric young athlete in another sport lifted the spirits and hopes of his fans, teammates and coaches nine months ago. Derrick Rose, after his ACL tear in the NBA playoffs. Remember, he did a commercial very similar to RG3’s—same shoe, coincidentally—touting the assurance that he’s on his way back, don’t you all worry.

Just before last week’s All-Star Game, though, Rose finally hedged his bet: he wouldn’t come back until he was “110 percent,” that it could be “next year,” and “It’s just that I’m not coming back until I’m ready.’’

Good for him.

And good for RG3 if he finds a need to say that nine months from now, which would put him past Week 1. He’d have no reason to feel disappointment or shame or failure.

The doctor knew better than him. His own knee did, too.

That’s all right. If it’s not Week 1, the NFL will still be there whatever week he does come back. Just like when Rose gets back, the NBA will still be there. Doctors and all.